Days without TV: men's health

Abstract

Today is a quiet afternoon. A slight, spasmodic buzzing through the side window of the apartment is produced by the few cars that cross the avenue from time to time. The building I live in looks like a sleeping Titan, it transmits a harsh and lasting softness, but that does not break the harmony of the environment, on the contrary, it gives meaning to the climate, which is almost warm. It is five o'clock past the meridian and the trees play with a light and clumsy breeze, which from time to time collides with the windowpanes and disperses in flight. I go to the balcony and observe the neighboring buildings. They are gray moles, although their color is white, green or blue, they appear gray and doze just like the old structure from where I peek. I live in a middle-class residential area, built for the interest of people willing to take the daytime walk and the long, serene evening conversation. Two hundred meters from where I am there is a square, many trees, a Metro station, several shops and a large main avenue. I live in Altamira, a stronghold of the socio-political reaction to the government of former Army Lieutenant Colonel Hugo Chávez Frías.